Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?

setup: Did you hear about the restaurant on the moon?

[Maître d’] qua tuxedo with magnetic boots, slightly aloft Reservation for two?

[BILL] qua birthday-dinner-having engineer, helmet in hand Yes. Berger.

[Maître d’] Right this way.

((FLOATS PAST FOUR TABLES OF DINERS, EACH ROOTED TO THEIR CHAIR BY SHOULDER STRAPS))

[Sommelier] qua Burgundy specialist, bowtie, oxygen line behind ear A vintage to start? We have a 2019 Côte de Beaune that — pardon — needs to breathe.

[BILL] That seems like a problem here.

[Sommelier] Yes. It’s a metaphor. The wine experiences existential metaphor. We charge extra.

[Shakes] qua busboy in mylar apron, smiling This is the best of all possible dining rooms.

[Waiter] qua French, classical training, somehow stationary The chef tonight presents a celeriac velouté with a kiss of nutmeg, finished with —

[BILL] How is the velouté.

[Waiter] Magnificent.

[BILL] And the sear on the lamb.

[Waiter] Exquisite. Caramelization at low pressure is a discipline.

[BILL] And the bread?

[Waiter] Hand-laminated. Seventy-two hours. The crumb is —

[Manyfeek] qua party of one at the bar, in a pressurized helmet ((MUFFLED)) The food is fine. I can’t hear anything.

[Maître d’] Sir, please.

[Manyfeek] There’s no air. The pianist is doing something up there and I can’t tell if it’s jazz or the ventilation.

[Waiter] We acknowledge the limitation. The menu reflects it.

[BILL] The menu is excellent.

[Waiter] Yes.

[BILL] But.

[Waiter] Yes.

punchline: Great food, no atmosphere.